


of the valley

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [95]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bonding, Developing Friendships, Female Friendship, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, episode 69 made me sad, let them talk more !!, soft, yasha and nott are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: after their frantic escape from the laughing hand, nott remembers a quiet moment.





	of the valley

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be way happier but then episode 69 came and tore my heart out so have this instead.

Nott is curled up close to their dying campfire, Caleb sleeping several feet to her left. It’s just her, who’s up, beside Beau, who’s on watch. 

She can’t stop herself from twisting the petals of one of the flowers from her bag. Around and around her green claws it goes, until finally the wilted and brown petals finally break. She lets them fall and stares into the glowing embers of the fire. 

She can’t stop thinking and, and, _feeling_ about the fight. Or, the flee, she supposes. There was less a fight than a desperate fleeing for their lives. She goes to take a swig from her flask but stops at just a sip, Jester’s words running through her thoughts. One more sip, then, and then the flask is set aside. 

Her mind feels like a bramble bush, full of fleece from silly sheep and bits of scarf from unwary passerby and all other matter of tangled and knotted and too-sharp things. 

But anyway. The flower is brown, now, too wilted and fragile to do anything but crumble. She remembers when she got it. That night in Felderwin, when they’d all shuffled back to an inn after her confession, the others giving her _looks_ the whole way, as though she couldn’t see them. How, even though she’d meant her words about secrets being chains, and how truly it had felt maybe a _little_ good to tell people, she’d felt like- like her bones were made of glass. Like if she moved too fast or twisted too far, she’d shatter into a million pieces. 

She’d stayed down at the bar for longer than she’d meant to, although she stopped before the alcohol made her blackout. Her son was here, within walking distance, and the group _knew_ and even though a part of her- and not a _small_ part, either, wanted to numb everything with drink- she stopped herself. Just. Just for a night, she could do it. 

She’d been saved from further introspection by someone she hadn’t expected. Yasha. The giant woman- even more so to someone of Nott’s size- had to squeeze to fit into the booth Nott was in. The peril of Felderwin- it is a town with a sizable halfling majority, and the rest are mostly humans. They’d just sat together, in silence, watching people come and go as the night wound down. It- had been nice. Different, from when she and Caleb would sit together, and even more so from Nott and Jester’s time together, which was filled with chatter and planning for future pranks. But this was just. Silence, with no undercurrents of anything. No expectations.

Nott’s attention had been grabbed by the sound of pages rustling, and she turned to Yasha had pulled out a book. A ratty looking journal filled with- flowers?

Yasha flipped for a bit, before settling on a page that had three small stems covered in white, bell shaped flowers that Nott knew very well.

“I… found these, when we were, um, walking. Earlier,” Yasha says, her voice quiet. 

Nott blinks, and realizes that there are tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. 

“Oh. Oh, uhm, yes, yes? I- These, um, they’re called lilies. Lily-of-the-valley’s. I used to, to collect them. Before. I would, um, I would like one, thank you,” Nott says, reaching out and grabbing one from the page, making sure to hold it delicately so her claws don’t rip it. It’s flattened, slightly, and Nott knows it won’t last a week, but. She appreciates the gesture nonetheless. 

She blinks, and realizes that they’re now the only people in the bar, and the barkeep is glaring at them. 

She hops down from the seat, throws the gold she owes on the table, and turns to leave, but pauses. She dashes over and gives Yasha a quick hug- or at least, Yasha’s midriff a hug, because even sitting down she is _very tall_ \- before running upstairs. 

“ _Thank you_ , Yasha,” she whispers, and she doesn’t bother to check if Yasha heard her. 

**Author's Note:**

> honestly nott and yasha have such good opportunities for bonding moments and i just want more content of them comparing their collections of stuff, or talking about flowers.


End file.
